I’m about to have a pity party of epic proportions. Avert your eyes lest you begin rolling them.
I’m having a really crappy day. And it’s not because anything has been bad. It’s all in my head. Thoughts, opinions, things I keep telling myself. Mostly about my weight. I should be all happy I saw myself on TV last night and trust me, I was. Just ask Mom and Heather who heard me literally screaming I was so excited. But there was one scene where they shot a full back shot of me and it was in a scene with India and Joy and they are like toothpicks and I had this awful shirt that flairs and makes me look bigger anyway because mainly is a size too small for me and doesn’t hit me in the right place but I like to wear it because Scott bought it for me and it wasn’t cheap and anyway, I looked wide. And I’m irritated because I don’t feel like I can complain about that just because all the jeans in my closet are a size 2. Everyone rolls their eyes and says get over yourself.
But you know, I have bad days too.
When my jeans are too tight and it hurts to sit and my one little roll rolls over the top of my jeans. Well, I don’t care if they’re a size 2, it doesn’t feel good. And when you step on a scale and you’re weighing more than you ever had sans a child in your belly to blame it on, it doesn’t feel good. And when you know you’ve been eating like crap and not doing any exercising except opening a piece of Halloween candy, you know you have no one to blame but yourself. And it’s awfully depressing thinking about the fact that the worst thing I ever did was quit the gym and buy an elliptical. And I hate myself that I can’t do one more day of the 30 day shred after my 30 days were up. I hate that I’m that lazy. And I hate that I can’t say no to root beer at Chick fil a. And some may say throw out all your size 2’s and buy size 4s and enjoy your root beer. But you know what, no, I’m not going to let myself go down that slippery slope. Because then I’ll be 3 more sizes down the line and maybe add some diabetes and a heart attack. And I’m as serious as a heart attack right now because that’s how it happens. People give up one size at a time. One piece of Halloween candy at a time.
And it all makes me think about the sermon on Sunday. He talked about having integrity in the little things so when the big things come, we choose what’s best. We choose what’s right. And how I walked away thinking, that’s not quite right. Sometimes the little things ARE the big things. One picture on the Internet, one mishandled conversation, one cigarette, one drink, one lie. All those bad decisions that are small but done over and over are addictions and divorce. The little things matter. So it irritates me that the Halloween candy matters. That this stupid cup of root beer matters. Because GUESS WHAT? I don’t WANT to go back to the gym. I don’t WANT to go running. I don’t WANT to do the 30 day shred. I don’t WANT to eat fruit and vegetables. But all of those added up could mean I would lose these stupid 8 pounds I want to lose. So today, I don’t know what I’ll choose…what I want to do or what’s best. Right now I’m finishing my root beer from Chick fil a. I may avoid the piece of Halloween candy this afternoon or not. I know for sure I’ll look in the mirror just before I take my size 2 jeans off tonight and complain that they’re tight and I have a muffin top. I’ll grimace when I look at the scale in the morning. Besides that, I don’t know. I just don’t know if I can do what’s right this time.
And y’all, that makes for a crappy day.